


Tipsy

by krelboyne



Category: Malcolm in the Middle
Genre: Drinking, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 07:22:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18441773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krelboyne/pseuds/krelboyne
Summary: 'So here they were; Reese and Malcolm, and some cheap alcohol Reese had probably (definitely) stolen. How could this possibly go right?'The boys get tipsy and fool around.





	Tipsy

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty long for what it is. Blame the fact I haven't written and finished something in a loooong time. Had too much fun rambling. Enjoy!

“No way!” Malcolm exclaimed, staring open-mouthed at the bottles Reese had hidden in a plastic bag under his bed. “But how did you-” Never mind. He knew the answer to that already. That was another story for another time. No matter how Reese acquired these goods, they were here now - might as well use ‘em.

“Mom and Dad would kill us if they knew!” Reese gloated proudly, holding one of the shiny wine bottles up in the air and admiring it.

“Mom would do more than kill us,” Malcolm added. “She’d probably find a way to bring us back from the dead just to kill us again.” This earned a laugh and a nod of agreement from his older brother.

Malcolm still couldn’t believe that their parents had left them behind for the weekend. Sure, he really _did_  have a project due Monday, but Malcolm had figured his mom wouldn’t buy it either way. As it happened, she agreed to it - so long as they called her at least twice a day to reassure her they hadn’t burned down the house or accidentally killed a neighbour. Their dad had helped, somewhat half-heartedly, of course. _“C’mon, Lois. The boys are fifteen and sixteen now. They have to learn to be responsible some time…”_  Dewey, much to his dismay, had been dragged along. Makes sense. Why would they be trusted to look after him? They had too many plans involving him, their roof and a home-made cannon to ensure the youngest boy’s safety. 

So here they were; Reese and Malcolm, and some cheap alcohol Reese had probably (definitely) stolen. How could this possibly go right? 

“Finally,” Reese began, rushing over to close their bedroom door, as though they weren’t alone in the house. “A Saturday night well spent.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes. Reese had no idea what he was talking about, had never had a drop of alcohol before and had never even shown any interest in it, for that matter. “Yeah, well, just don’t do anything stupid.” He shook his head. No use in telling Reese that.

“How much do you think we can drink before we get drunk?” Reese brought a second bottle of wine from the bag.

“Jeez, Reese. I think one bottle’s enough!”

He shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to hide this for another time.” 

Doubtful, Malcolm thought. They’d be pouring whatever is left down the drain before his mom returned. If they wanted to live to ever drink again, of course. 

“So, why wine?” Malcolm took one of the bottles and began to read the small print on the label. If anything, he’d have assumed beer. If he’d had the choice, he’d have picked beer.  

“I don’t know. I went for the quickest and easiest thing to grab, I guess.” Reese saw Malcolm’s face change and before his brother could say anything else, he cut in. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Let’s not ruin the night by giving me one of your lectures. I just wanted to have fun tonight.”

Malcolm couldn’t argue with that. What’s done is done, as the saying goes. Besides, they were home alone - with alcohol, for the very first time. How could he deny this opportunity?! 

“Okay,” Malcolm shifted on his bed to make himself more comfortable. “Let’s have fun.” 

*

They opened both bottles after all, and switched between the two. Malcolm took a swig from his bottle and Reese from his own, before they swapped and repeated.

The alcohol seemed to be working quickly and effectively. They’d never touched this stuff before and it was hitting them hard. Malcolm’s brain swam and his vision was fuzzy around the edges. He felt good. He felt… relaxed. He was still altogether enough to notice that this was a first. He liked it; liked how slow-paced his thinking had become, liked that his body felt as light as a feather and the heavy weight on his shoulders had been lifted an inch or two. 

They had been laughing and talking excitedly as they experimented with the cheap wine. Reese was up on his feet, had switched the radio on, and was swaying back to the beds. Instead of resuming his cross-legged position on his mattress, he sat by Malcolm and handed him his bottle.

“Take this. I gotta lie down a second.”

Malcolm had both bottles in his hands now and watched as Reese lay on his back, presumably staring at the ceiling which would be swirling behind semi-intoxicated eyes.

“Are you okay, man?” Malcolm rested the two glass bottles on his bedside table and proceeded to stare at Reese, his head cocked to one side in a mixture of concern and amusement. His own voice seemed far away, almost as though somebody was speaking his thoughts for him. He didn’t fully recognise the sound. The words came out in a slow drawl from a throat that was on fire.

“Yeah,” Reese responded quietly, then laughed loudly. “I think I’m a little drunk. Can you feel that?”

“I can.” Malcolm joined his brother, stared up at the ceiling as their shoulders brushed.

“Is the bed spinning?” Reese tipped his head to his left to look at Malcolm.

“The whole room is.” Malcolm returned the eye contact and they shared a laugh.

“So, what now?”

“I’m not sure.” Malcolm pondered, wondering what to do next.

He thought of all the movies on TV; the ones with the high school parties and all the drunk teenagers having the time of their lives. They’d dance, they’d fight, they’d find an empty room upstairs to make out in. But he didn’t feel extremely hyped or lively. He felt good - really good - but in a more quiet, dizzy kind of way. The music Reese had switched on just moments ago murmured away softly in the background, and Malcolm stared at the swirls on the ceiling. He figured Reese was feeling similar. He wasn’t jumping around either, or making a lot of noise. He was deep in thought. Typical. The only time he’d be deep in thought is while semi- _drunk._

“I got an idea.” Reese spoke up after a while, shifting so that he was lying on his side facing Malcolm.

“Oh yeah?” The younger responded in a mumble. He’d been daydreaming, body and mind sailing along a woozy river of cheap, stolen wine. He side-eyed his brother and noticed that Reese was staring at him.

“I could explain it, but it’ll sound stupid.” His voice wasn’t slurred like the drunks you see on TV, but each word came out slowly nonetheless, and the sentence as a whole seemed to drag. “So just go with it.”

Curious, Malcolm watched as Reese reached for a bottle from the night-stand. He took a long, desperate swig. Sorta looked as though he was hoping for a boost of confidence.

“Reese…” Malcolm hesitated. He had a bad idea about this and a hunch that Reese’s plan had something to do with breaking something.

“Shh.” Reese quietened him gently, returned the bottle to the stand, then took Malcolm by the shoulders. “Go with it, remember?”

Malcolm glared at him uncertainly and was about to protest this whole thing when Reese leaned in closer and pressed their lips together. The moment lasted only a second, if that, yet time seemed to slow down and Malcolm, despite feeling beyond confused, had the chance to think that _this_ was not what he had been expecting.

The older brother pulled away, looking stunned despite instigating the move himself. He was searching Malcolm’s face for something, but Malcolm wasn’t sure what he wanted exactly. Did he need reassurance? Should he be disgusted? The latter would certainly be the most normal response. But Reese looked worried; eyebrows furrowed, mouth parted slightly. Doubting. Possibly regretting. But it had only been a split second. The smallest kiss in the world. Malcolm couldn’t be angry at that, even if he had the right to be confused.

“What was that?” He stammered, finding it difficult to look Reese in the eyes. He couldn’t place why - surely, that had simply been an innocent gesture he had just misunderstood? But they never kissed. Ever. They rarely _hugged_ , and when they did it was usually by accident or forced by their parents.

“This is what happens in movies, right?” Reese said pretty pathetically with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Reese.”

“What? Like at those parties. They drink, play music and kiss.”

So Reese had been thinking about those movies too, huh?

“Reese. Are you saying you want to _kiss_  me? _Me?_ ”

A pause. Then, “it just seemed like the right thing to do.”

“How is anything about that _right?_ ” For someone who had been tipsy just moments ago, Malcolm sure felt sober.

“I don’t know!” Reese sounded agitated now. He threw himself down on his back, staring up at the ceiling once again. “I’m just trying to have a good time. I don’t know what’s supposed to happen, okay? I just thought about it and it didn’t _seem_  like a such a bad idea.” Malcolm watched his brother roll his eyes. “But, as usual, my idea sucked.”

“Come on, Reese. You can see why I’m confused. I get it though - I do. If I was your friend, and a girl, that would totally be the smart thing to do!”

Reese looked at him, eyes pleading for some sort of reassurance and forgiveness. He looked desperate to move on and put it all behind them. More to the point, Reese looked embarrassed and actually ashamed.

“But it’s really not a big deal,” Malcolm continued, wanting to relieve his brother’s torment. “I mean, it was so _quick._  I barely felt it.”

“Well, good… I guess.”

“Reese, what’s wrong? It doesn’t matter.”

“Nothing.”

“Reese.”

“Nothing.”

“Reese!”

“Forget it, Malcolm. I just wanted to have a good time and I ruined it.”

“Nothing is ruined!” Malcolm sat up, grabbed the bottles of wine and handed one to Reese. “Let’s just move on, alright? Have a drink.”   

Reese reluctantly grabbed the bottle and together they sipped at the drink.

They were silent. Apart from the low hum of music and wine sloshing around half-empty bottles, there were no other sounds. Malcolm stared at Reese who was looking down at his own fidgeting hands. What was the big deal? Okay… it had been a little weird, sure. But it was one, tiny, kiss! Nothing more. What was Reese so upset about? He wanted to ask him, wanted to press the subject, but Reese was clearly uncomfortable. His head was still spinning and he wondered if Reese was feeling the same.

Malcolm cleared his throat loudly and was somewhat annoyed when this didn’t earn Reese’s attention.

“For God’s sake, Reese! What’s the matter with you? I thought you wanted to forget about it and have fun. Why are you sulking?”

Reese flicked his gaze to Malcolm, looking scolded. “I’m not sulking.”

“Are too.”

Reese simply scoffed and looked back down at his bottle.

At this point, Malcolm found himself growing increasingly impatient. He couldn’t quite explain why he was so bothered about this sudden mood he found Reese in, but he was. If he could move on from the stupid kiss, why couldn’t his brother? He sighed and abandoned the bottle to the night-stand once again.

Reese must have wanted to kiss Malcolm, for one reason or another. So, he used the excuse of those high school movies - but this was a completely different context! He was with his brother, not some ‘crush’ of his. Why had he wanted to kiss him? Why had he thought it was okay? So many questions and such an unresponsive, difficult Reese.

Maybe he’d never know why, in that moment, Reese had wanted to kiss him. But he at least had the advantage of knowing that he _had_  wanted to. And so, perhaps with the alcohol flowing around in his unaccustomed body, and with his inhibitions somewhat lowered, Malcolm chose to use a different approach. Reese clearly didn’t want to talk, but he wanted answers. He wanted to know why Reese wanted to kiss him, what his aim had been when he made the move. Most of all, he wanted Reese to be normal again. And if this _did_  backfire, could the atmosphere feel any more awkward than it did right now?

Silently and slowly, Malcolm retrieved the second bottle from Reese, putting it with the other. Reese was looking at him now, quiet and questioning. Malcolm’s stomach flipped at what he was about to do, and at the look on his brother’s face. He looked… sad.

Butterflies furiously dancing around his stomach and with slightly-drunken stars in his eyes, Malcolm closed the space between them, gaze fixed intently on Reese’s green eyes that seemed to sparkle the nearer he got to him.

His brain was racing, telling him to ‘STOP’. This could not be a good idea, this could not work, this isn’t right, this won’t end well. But Malcolm did not yield to the warnings or to his own fear that pounded away in his chest like a drum. He closed his eyes as his mouth touched his brother’s.

They seemed to pause like some sort of freeze-frame, lips hastily smushed together. Neither boy dared move first, both locked still in fear and something else they couldn’t quite label. Malcolm’s stomach continued to dance and flip, but the sensation was more pleasant this time. Heavy and unrelenting, yet warm and fuzzy. Somewhere in the back of his tipsy mind, he hoped Reese felt this warmth too.

It was Reese who tilted his head and pulled away for the briefest second to breathe, before leaning in and kissing Malcolm, their lips locking in a kiss more open-mouthed and less stiff than their first two. Malcolm felt heat brimming then flooding his cheeks, before the rest of his body caught on fire too. His fist found Reese’s shirt collar and he kept his brother close, holding on for dear life.

Okay. So, this wasn’t so bad after all. Reese’s idea was starting to make sense. The drinking, the soft lull of music blaring in the background, the kissing. It all just felt… right. Yes, this was his brother. This was Reese! But once their lips were moving together and Reese’s arms were wrapped around his waist, it felt so far from wrong. And although his mind was racing and he couldn’t quite shut it up, Malcolm had no interest in trying to figure out why this felt okay. For once, he wanted to be in the moment, and he was pretty sure the alcohol was helping him achieve that.

They had built a steady rhythm. Kissing had turned into making out, but still slow and cautious. They’d kiss, pull away for the quickest sigh of breath, meet again. Green circles were whirling behind Malcolm’s closed eyes and each time they’d pull apart briefly, Reese’s warm breath would tickle his face and he could smell the wine they had been sharing. It was only when Reese pulled away that Malcolm’s eyelids flew open and found Reese’s face. His cheeks were also flushed, the faintest pink. He couldn’t find words so he asked with his eyes instead. Had Reese changed his mind all of a sudden?

As if reading Malcolm’s concern perfectly, Reese offered a soft smile, said “It’s okay.” His hands reached out to touch Malcolm’s shoulders, and he proceeded to push the smaller boy onto his back, his head settling into the pillows at the top of the bed. Malcolm watched curiously as Reese positioned himself above him. As if instinctual, Malcolm spread his legs so Reese could fit between them. Within seconds, they had resumed kissing. Reese’s hands were gripping Malcolm’s hips firmly and as he shifted on top of him, Malcolm could feel the bulge in Reese’s pants weigh heavy on his own hardening dick and let out an involuntary gasp. He could feel Reese smile into the kiss.  

Pleased with the response from Malcolm, Reese experimented further by shifting again then steadily rocking his hips against the younger boy’s. Another gasp from Malcolm, then a groan from Reese. They stopped kissing but stayed close, their noses touching. Malcolm dared to open his eyes and was abruptly met with Reese’s gaze, soft yet somehow piercing. They continued to grind against one another; Reese pressing down hard against Malcolm’s groin and Malcolm lifting his hips desperately, hungry for the jolt of pleasure the contact would send shooting through his body.

Malcolm was biting down on his lip, embarrassed by the sounds threatening to spill from the back of his throat. It felt good. So _good._  Aside from blinking, their eye contact had not been broken and it was intense. Neither boy had experienced anything like this. Anything more than a poor excuse for a kiss, really. Despite his inexperience, Malcolm felt ready for anything right now. Reese was unashamedly moaning each time their dicks rubbed together through their pants and the sound made Malcolm impossibly hard. Never, ever, would he believe any sound from Reese could make him feel so delightfully light-headed and alive.

“Malcolm...” Reese was close and Malcolm knew it. His hips had begun to rock more rapidly and Malcolm welcomed the roughness, sprawling his legs out further to give his brother the space to move as quickly and as hard as he liked.

“You close, Reese?” Malcolm groaned, nails digging into his brother’s shoulder blades. He’d soon lost any shame that told him to stay quiet and was practically whimpering as Reese thrust down against his dick, his body beginning to shudder with his own pre-orgasm shakes.

Reese mumbled something unintelligible before tightening his grip on Malcolm’s hips, keeping his younger brother still and firmly in place while he pounded against him. Malcolm’s eyes fell shut, his body starting to numb from the sensation and then, suddenly, Reese slowed down as he let out a long, low moan that seemed to derive from his chest. His body shook, appeared to tense, then fell heavy as he relaxed on top of Malcolm, trying to catch his breath. Eager to finish and already feeling close, Malcolm resumed his own movements, lifting his hips greedily. Reese was kissing his face, exhausted from his own orgasm and still breathless. Malcolm, encouraged by the sound of Reese’s finish ringing in his ears, rocked himself against the older boy’s thigh that rested between his legs until he felt a familiar surge of heat pool in the pit of his stomach. He came fast and hard, crying out as he did so. He was aware of Reese stroking his hair and the sweat from his brother’s shirt where he clung, dampening his fingertips.

Once Malcolm’s shaking body had stilled, Reese rolled himself off his brother and flopped down by his side, letting out a long, contented sigh. It took approximately two minutes for Malcolm’s body to calm down, his rapid breathing gradually easing and the sweat on his body cooling. It was almost as though any drunkenness left his body with his orgasm, and he suddenly felt very aware of everything that had happened.

Reese was quiet. Too quiet. Malcolm turned to his right and found Reese staring back, one of his classic stupid grins plastered on his face. But it was one of those grins that Malcolm had always had difficulty denying, and he ended up grinning back. His older brother looked pretty pleased with himself. He felt good too, _really good, really happy,_  but he had questions and concerns and quickly began to grow less calm on the inside.

“Reese-” Malcolm was cut off.

“Don’t.” Reese said simply, then took his brother’s hand. 


End file.
